


The other side of the mirror

by Featherly



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Mirrors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 01:32:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8125345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Featherly/pseuds/Featherly
Summary: The mirror wasn't so terrifying after Alfred showed him what was inside it. Then it was the most wonderful, precious thing in the world.





	

Damian never felt a connection to anyone as much as he had to Alfred. No matter how many times he messed up at school or on patrols, how many times he told them he was running away, how many times he had a tantrum and broke whatever he could reach, the butler was always there with open arms to accept him.

Alfred had taught Damian things he valued more that what Bruce ever had, like how to make the perfect spaghetti, or the secret of the old mirror sitting in Damian’s room.

Damian remembered the first night in the manor, in his room, in front of the mirror. He was terrified of the mirror and how he couldn’t see what was behind it. That, and the way it reflected every bit of light that entered his room, even when there seemed to be none. He didn’t want to take his eyes off the mirror in case something came out from behind it, but he didn’t want to look at it for the same reason.

So there he was on his first night, soft bedsheet covers up to his chin, making eye contact with himsef on the other side of his room.

“Damian?” came Alfred’s soothing voice from behind his bedroom door.

Damian ran from his bed to the door, swung it open in a matter of seconds and threw his arms around the older man . “Alfred, can you please, please move the mirror! Its really freaking me out.” 

Alfred put his own arms around Damian. “Now now, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Especially not with this mirror.” 

He flicked the switch and the room lit up. Damian continued to watch himself in the mirror, refused to take his eyes off the daunting object. Alfred moved towards it and motioned Damian to do the same.

Alfred reached for Damian’s hand, stopping short of it. He wanted Damian to close the space himself, a sign of trust.

Damian tentatively touched the old man’s hand before grabbing it tight. Alfred returned the gesture with a squeeze before he moved the enclosed hands towards the glass of the mirror. Damian resisted the urge to flinch his hand away, even though he was shaking uncontrollably. Trust. Trust him.

Their hands hit the glass, and Alfred continued to push their hands into it. It hurt. Oh god did it hurt.

“Alfred?”

The butler continued to push their hands against it. Damian’s hand hurt. He tried to pull it away, but Alfred put more weight onto it.

“Alfred! You’re hurting me!” cried Damian, beginning to struggle. Alfred was mad, crazy! He was going to break Damian’s hand!

Alfred put all of his weight into Damian’s small hand, and just when Damian thought his bones were going to break, it happened for the first time. The hands passed through the mirror like a portal. It felt like cold, liquified silk.

“There we go. Come on, together now.”

Alfred guided a starstruck Damian forward through the mirror as if he had done it a million times before.

The pair were Inside Wayne manor in the exact same place they had just been, only this room was empty with the exception of the mirror. It wasn’t dark outside any more either, but bright and sunny. The kind of weather Gotham never saw.

“What... What just happened Alfred?” asked Damian as he moved about the room towards the glowing window. Alfred didn’t reply.

Looking out the window, Damian could see parts of Gotham in the distance, as he usually could. Only this time the streets were clean and the buildings were bright. The pavements were clear, and the few people he could see looked calm, completely at peace.

Damian simply stared at this rare sight almost unable to believe his eyes. He was startled out of this by the sound of a turning door handle, and two people, a man and a woman, burst into the room.

“Alfred! We didn’t know if we would see you again... It’s been so long.” cried the mysterious man before he and the woman with him ran to Alfred to embrace him. 

“Still no Bruce?” asked the woman with a tone of misery.

“Afraid not.” replied Alfred. “He still doesn’t want to believe in this world.”

“We miss him so much... I don’t want to have to wait until he’s dead.”

“Well with the way he’s going that won’t be long.”

“Alfred!” said the woman with a playful disgust

“While I don’t have the oldest living Wayne, I do, however, have his son. Your Grandson.”

Martha looked at Damian as if she only then noticed he was there. “... My Grandson. What is your name?” 

“Damian, mam.” replied the youngest with an awkward stance.

“Damian. What a beautiful name.” Martha hugged him tight, and Thomas soon joined her.

That was the first encounter Damian had ever had with the other side of the mirror, with his Grandparents. He returned weekly to share the events of his day, how he was going in school, how he was going on patrols with his Father. He told his Grandparents what was going on in their own son’s life as well, and they too looked forward to Damian’s visits.

Damian had come to find the old mirror in his room as a wonderful comfort. The way he could communicate with people long dead so easily, as if they were still alive.

He returned to the mirror for many years, sometimes with Alfred by his side, other times by himself. He came to trust the mirror so much that he could run and jump straight into the other world with no fear he was going to hit a solid object, and came to anticipate the cold, silky feeling of the mirror.

Bruce knew Damian used the mirror, but neither brought it up in conversation with the exception of the one time Damian asked him why he never used it. This had brought up an argument with tears and thrown objects. All Damian knew for a fact regarding his answer was from what Alfred had said on his first day with his grandparents; he didn’t want to believe that world. Or maybe he didn’t want to believe in that world, a world where his parents are happy without him, where Gotham doesn’t need a batman.

 

The mirror was the greatest gift Damian had ever recieved, and the knowledge of what happened behind it was the most amazing comfort Alfred, or anyone else, had ever given him. 

 

Yes, Damian never felt a connection to anyone as much so as he felt to Alfred, and everyone knew it. This is why Dick, Jason, and Tim found it so strange when Damian didn’t even cry at his funeral. Tim asked him about this just after the funeral, to which Damian replied “I think I'll see him again pretty soon.” 

Damian looked out the window of the large car with a massive smile on his face and anticipation in his heart as Dick drove him and a distraught Bruce back home.

The older man became silent as they walked up the steps to the manor. Bruce looked mournful as he watched his youngest son run ahead of him. 

Naturally, Damian ran straight towards his room eager and willing to see Alfred again. He still had a smile on his face as he opened his door and continued to run straight towards the frame he had run into so many times, only this time he stepped on a shard of glass and tripped. He fell into a massive pile of glass and smashed mirror which cut up his hands, his knees, and his face, and he never saw Alfred in life again.

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive me for errors. I'm still learning how to write.


End file.
